White Balance
by yuuyacchi
Summary: Modeling is pretty easy, especially if you just smile at the person behind the camera. Kise x OC
1. Autofocus

**A/N:** Hm? Oh, hi there! Enjoy watching me trek cluelessly through KnB territory. I'm pretty sure I still have two papers to finish, three exams to prepare for, and a couple more reports to put together. I maybe have a general idea of the general direction I want to go with, but nothing too concrete. It's just, this one has been written for about a month or so already, and you can expect the next chapter in, like, a couple dozen years, OTL. Plot suggestions are most welcome!

* * *

" . . . Interview?"

The editor-in-chief winks and sends her a quick grin, one hand in front of his face in an apologetic gesture.

"Sorry, but we really need someone to cover it. The Hasegawa twins had to go to Hokkaido because of a family emergency, so the sports department is a little understaffed. I was planning on having you go take some pictures anyway, so you might as well do the interview, too. It'll probably be difficult because of Kasamatsu-san's condition, but I guess you can just stick to asking the coach for his comments. In end, the answers are all pretty generic anyway."

" . . . I am a _photographer_."

The editor-in-chief's grin strains a bit. "I really, really need you to do this, Nishino. I just need you to ask a couple of questions and Hasegawa-otouto will do the write-up. Record it on your phone or something, and we'll send it over to him through email. We're already running late on next week's issue. Pretty please?" He pulls out his last card for good measure. "I'll let you handle the photo montage for the cultural festival article—two double spreads, full color, free reign."

She is bought.

* * *

_Chapter One_ | **Autofocus**

* * *

The sky is cutting into the earth again.

The hot red of the late afternoon sun bleeds into the horizon past the steel and glass corners of Kaijou's buildings. Flecks of orange and yellow reflect off of the mirror-like surfaces, drowning the vast sports complex in a warm light. Inside the gymnasium, the members of the basketball team race across the floors, shirts drenched in sweat as they go through their regular exercises.

"No team is perfect, and we still have a long way to go," the team's coach, a rather round man with slight stubble on his chin, says. "It's unfortunate that we weren't able to win at the Inter-High, but we're proud to have made it as far as we did. Now, we're focusing on building up our members' individual abilities more, and, of course, team play is also important. We've set our sights for the Winter Cup, and we're hoping our hard work will pay off."

"Thank you for your time, Coach Takeuchi." The black-haired girl lets down her phone, quickly tapping on the screen, saving the sound recording of his words. She smiles at him politely, "Would it be fine to ask for comments from the captain as well? And we'd be very grateful if you could allow for a few pictures of practice. Of course, if possible, we'd also like to get a picture of your excellent coaching in action."

" . . . I suppose it won't hurt," the coach relents a bit too easily. He turns to the group practicing rebounds by one of the hoops, barking out, "Kasamatsu! Get over here!"

The spiky-haired captain glances over to their coach and immediately stiffens. He manages to quickly pick up on what is wanted from him, and he turns sharply on his heel, grabbing a certain blonde first year by the back of his shirt.

"Ahh! Kasamatsu-senpai!" Kise complains, arms flailing as he is pulled down to his senior's level. His torso twists over Kasamatsu's iron grip, fighting to regain balance. "That hurts!"

"You're coming with me," Kasamatsu growls dangerously into his ear, dragging their whining ace across the floor as they head towards the gym's entrance, where their coach is standing next to the reporter from the school paper.

Their stocky coach arches an eyebrow in question but quickly dismisses the thought. "Ah, well. This is the captain, Kasamatsu Yukio, and our first year regular, Kise Ryouta, of the Generation of Miracles."

Free from his captain's clutches, Kise turns to face the girl standing in their company. She is quite small, but then again, compared to him, everyone is a bit on the short side. Her black hair is cut just past her shoulders in a straight and blunt line, and her bangs sweep off to one side of her forehead, pinned back by two sunflower hairclips. She wears the regular Kaijou girls' uniform—a pleated, dull gray skirt and the plain white blouse of the summer uniform. Around her neck hangs a very expensive-looking camera, much like the ones professional photographers he works with use, with just as big lenses and just as many other little attachments with functions he honestly has no clue of. She veers a bit more towards pretty than average, but still, her face is nothing spectacular.

"My name is Nishino Naruko," she introduces herself with a bow. Her tone of voice is professional and detached, but somehow welcoming all the same. She must have been quite good at her job, because her tone is perfectly matched with a certain kind of the professional reporters he talks to. His manager has warned him to be especially carefully with those types. "I'm from the school paper. I was wondering whether you have any comments on the team's performance in the recent Inter-High, especially in that last game against Touou Academy? Like, how did it affect the team's spirit and morale, and what do you plan to do from now on?"

"_Guuh . . ._ " Kise's hands grab for his side, where Kasamatsu has painfully dug his fist. Turning his head to complain, Kise's words hitch at the back of his throat.

Kasamatsu is wide-eyed, sweating buckets, and stiff as a board, lips tightly pressed together as he stares at something just beyond the reporter's head. Belatedly, he realizes that the captain is not really twisting his fist into his side, but rather, it is shaking quite uncontrollably, along with the rest of his arm.

_The most Kasamatsu has said to a girl is, 'Nn,' and, 'No.'_ Kobori-senpai's words from that last disaster of an outing they had rings solemnly in the back of his head.

Internally, Kise weeps. In this kind of situation, his captain's inability to speak to those of the female gender is just too pitiful. What if he's interviewed by a female for college entrance exams? Or in trying to get a job? How does his captain deal with waitresses and ladies staffing the cash registers at department stores and supermarkets? Does he just avoid the female ones and head straight to the male ones? How does he deal with his mother and other female family members? Surely, it can't be that bad as to be unable to talk with family members, but the entire idea of it is pathetic all the same.

Kise Ryouta worries for Kasamatsu Yukio's future.

From the corner of his eye, he can spot the other three regulars stopping practice altogether and instead opting to watch them with blatant curiosity. And slowly but surely, the rest of the basketball team's members are also opting to watch the exchange instead of practicing.

The coach is glaring at him now, too. His eyes scream, "_Say something! Don't make her write an article about how the basketball team is full of awkward idiots (even though it really is)!_"

Internally, Kise weeps. Just because he is also a model doesn't mean he is an expert at dealing with the press. After that crushing defeat at the hands of Aominecchi, even he is feeling a little down. He has no pretty words ready to dish out for situations like this.

The reporter girl, Nishino Naruko, blinks and tilts her head, holding out a sleek black phone in a black leather case. On the screen, he sees a big red circle and a timer running below it. She waits patiently for his answer as Kasamatsu digs his fist into his side again.

"_Oww_—umm . . . well, that match against Aominecchi was really exhilarating. It's unfortunate that we weren't able to win, but . . . uh, we'll definitely get them back at the Winter Cup, maybe. Right now, uh, let's see—we're all focusing on training and preparing for the next tournament so that we can, um, bring pride and glory to the school, yeah." Kise stumbles over his pointless and barely-answering-the-question reply. He is glad that the reporter seems like a nice, polite girl, instead of some voracious Hollywood-star-hunting-paparazzi-wannabe. She simply smiles tentatively at them as her gaze flicks over to where Kasamatsu's fist is digging so hard into his side that he is practically punching his liver now.

When she realizes that he has no more words to say, she brings down the hand holding on to the phone and nods. She thanks them a bit too kindly as she taps away on her phone, slipping it back into her pocket. Coach Takeuchi dismisses both captain and ace with a dirty look as he steps forward to exchange a few more words with the reporter girl.

"What the hell was that?" Kasamatsu hisses, knocking a fist over the back of the blonde's head. "That was the _stupidest_ reply you could've given! Hayakawa could've said something with more substance and nobody understands half of what he says!"

"I'm sorry~" Kise whines. "It was the best I could come up with on the spot."

"Idiot," the the third-year sighs. Kise thinks that he's being let off easily this time because even Kasamatsu acknowledges his own uselessness in the situation. The captain scratches the back of his head tiredly. "Whatever. She's probably going to hang around to take pictures. You can at least make the team look good at that, right?"

Kasamatsu's tone is dry as he arches a single, challenging eyebrow at Kise.

The blonde huffs, pumping a fist to his chest. "Leave it to me."

Kasamatsu simply shakes his head. "Just . . . keep her away from Moriyama. She might get annoyed by him and write a bad article on us. I don't want a repeat of what happened with that other reporter last year."

Curious, Kise arches an eyebrow, waiting for his captain to continue. But Kasamatsu says no more and simply gives him an expectant look.

Kise sighs. It is a story for another time then (or he could get it from Hayakawa or Kobori after practice). "You can count on me, senpai~"

* * *

Reporter girl loiters around the edge of the court, taking photographs of random things as she adjusts the settings of her camera to best fit with the lighting and scenery of the gym. After a few minutes, she starts wandering around and taking pictures of members as they go through their exercises. Kise finds himself a bit impressed by how she moves much like a real professional photographer—moving around to get different angles, squatting low, stepping up some of the benches for a bird's eye view a couple of times, often fiddling with her camera. At first, the members tensed when she came close, but soon enough, it was like they didn't even notice her.

_Uwaah~ She's like Kurokocchi~_ he finds himself thinking, lips quirking up at the thought. Even Kasamatsu-senpai is barking out orders like usual even though she was standing just a few feet behind him. She flits around quietly for the most part, though she seems to linger around the group that's playing a mini-game a bit longer than in others.

It takes a while, but she eventually reaches where he is doing some shooting drills with a few others. She hangs back a bit behind the post, crouching down with the camera angled up towards the hoop.

"Nakamura-senpai," he calls out to the glasses-wearing shooting guard. Nakamura glances over his way and throws the ball into his open hands, and Kise drives forward powerfully before executing an impressive dunk.

The familiar flash and click reach his eyes, and his mouth pulls into an automatic grin. He hangs from the basket a bit before nimbly landing back on the floor.

Reporter girl lowers the camera from her face and looks at him with a raised eyebrow. Kise keeps the grin on his face as her eyes glance down to check the picture she had taken.

"Did you get it?" he asks amiably as he steps toward her crouched form. "If not, I could it again."

" . . . I got it," she replies smoothly as she stands up, holding the camera up to her face again.

Almost by instinct, Kise's inner model takes over, and he strikes a pose and puts on his face just in time for the shutter to click and the flash to burst.

She has that same look with the raised eyebrow on her face when she lowers the camera again. She sighs, smiling slightly at him while shaking her head before walking away.

"Ehh? You're going already?"

She glances at him over her shoulder, raising the camera slightly. The curve of her mouth looks more like a smirk than a smile, and there is something oddly overpowering about the gleam in her eyes. "I think I have enough pictures."

She walks toward Coach Takeuchi to announce her departure. Kise feels a weight over his shoulders and a fist digging into his left temple.

"You rascal!" Moriyama growls as he grinds his fist into the side of Kise's head for a noogie. "The least you could've done was get her number for me!"

"Ow ow ow! Moriyama-senpai! It _hurts_~~~!"


	2. Landscape

**A/N:** Wooooow, I did not expect to get this up so soon, nor did I expect to write this when I still have those papers to write and those exams to study for, but since next week is finals week, everything ends one way or the other, so, uhh, pray for my soul, m'kay? Honestly, I have no idea where I pulled this chapter from, but I was just so giddy with all the reviews and follows and favorites that I couldn't do anything school-related, HAHAHAHAAAAH. Sighs.

**SnowstormX:** Omigosh, I do not deserve such adjectives. I'm squealing and blushing right now. Kyaaaaaaa. ^/ / /^ And, ugh, yes, Nakamura needs more love. Those glasses turn me on so muuuuuch. I'll try to include him as much as I can, along with the other Kaijou regulars.  
**Otaku-neku:** Thanks for the review! For now, I won't give any expectations about updates, but my minimum time to write a chapter is usually a week, unless I have the next ones pre-written. As for the rating, hm. I actually rated this K+ because I don't really plan on making this to heavy, but I guess we'll have to wait and see since, uhh, there is no concrete plan in the first place, OTL. I'm glad you like the idea of Kise with a photographer! The idea was actually reversed when I first thought about it for a different anime series—there is a guy photographer character, and I imagined a female model OC.  
**LeoInuyuka:** HMMM. IDEA.

Whew. Okay, enough of my babbling. Enjoy the chapter!

* * *

Kise finds himself a bit surprised at how he could have missed something so obvious.

"Nishino, g'morning!"

"Yo, Nishino!"

He presses his lips together in a thin, strained smile. Never did he think it possible that he would be lowered to Murasakicchi's level.

Oh, the irony.

Reporter girl faithfully replies to every greeting. Her clip today bears the design of a cartoon skull, and she wears a bit more make-up than before. She also seems to have gotten a haircut overnight as well—the bluntly cut black locks now had more shape because of the layered style—

He nudges the guy beside him.

"Hey, does Nishino have a sister?"

The guy regards him curiously with a raised eyebrow. "Huh? Nishino? Yeah, she has an older sister, remember? The photographer girl, Nikon-senpai—she even came to our classroom once. They looked so much alike standing next to each other that we mistook them for twins."

Kise nods rather sagely. Even he is somewhat impressed at his own mental prowess—he clearly remembers the white letters printed onto her camera and is able to immediately piece together the reason behind her interesting nickname.

"Why the sudden interest in Nishino's older sister?" his brown-haired classmates asks, before adopting a bothered expression. "Wait, Kise—seriously, man, if you're gonna start going after girls with boyfriends, even _you're_ going to get clobbered—"

"She has a boyfriend?" Kise finds himself unexpectedly surprised at that little bit of info. He admits that reporter girl is kind of pretty, in a kind of traditional way with her straight black hair, dainty features, and very nice posture, but there is something about her that gives off a sense of independence—that she is the type to not need someone else by their side.

His classmate furrows his brows. "Well, yeah. Yaoya-senpai made a pretty big deal out of it when she finally accepted his confession just before the summer break started. Plus, he's always all over her."

"Hoooh." Kise wracks his brains, trying to recall this Yaoya-senpai—it is an unusual surname after all, so he thinks that he should be able to remember it. Unfortunately, he comes up at a blank. He does not remember any incidents about someone making a fuss out of an accepted confession either. The time period mentioned was after their defeat at Seirin's hands, and just before the preliminaries. He had had nothing but basketball in his head then.

His classmate snaps his fingers in front of his face, breaking Kise away from his thoughts. "Dude, seriously. Yaoya-senpai is an idiot who embarrasses himself a lot, but he's a still delinquent with a record. He'll beat you to a pulp, model and basketball ace or not—actually, he might just screw you over even more."

"It's not like I'm interested in her like that," Kise replies blandly. "She just dropped by to interview the basketball team last week, so I got curious."

"Whatever, man," his classmate shakes his head. "Don't say I didn't warn you."

* * *

_Chapter Two_ | **Landscape**

* * *

"_Oh, hello, Kise-kun? Look, I know you said you're extending your break until after your winter tournament thing, but Nao-chan cornered me during lunch to ask about you. Apparently, a spot recently opened up in a catalog job because one of the models had to back out last minute. It's for the winter campaign of a kimono shop—Tozainanboku. The pay's very good, and it's near your area. The owner is pretty distinguished, so the agency really doesn't want to screw this up. Sorry to ask on such short notice, but can you at least consider?_"

The arrival of a new school term means the next installment of his older sister's college tuition loan is due, and the conclusion of the Inter-High has left him in need of some new basketball shoes. While he has already decided to extend his modeling hiatus—the loss at the Inter-High was particularly hard, and the Winter Cup promises to be a brutal competition—these two expenses have made a sizeable dent in his personal savings. He is well-aware that his parents can cover these costs with money to spare, but they are responsibilities he had taken on, and he wants to properly see them through. After all, he owes his modeling career to Ryouko-nee, and basketball is something he takes very seriously.

Kise transfers his phone from his right ear to his left as he walks to the bus stop after practice. "Hmm . . . Kimono, huh? It does sound interesting."

"_It's a one day gig—8 to 5, and they'll even cover lunch for all the models and their handlers for free. The photoshoot is scheduled for this Sunday. You don't have basketball training Sundays, right? Your portfolio was actually shortlisted in the initial meeting, but since you're on break . . ._"

Kise considers the offer. It does sound good, and a quick break from all the basketball just might be what he needs before diving into training for the Winter Cup. "Can I look over the details first?"

"_Of course, of course! I'll forward you the papers, including a copy of the contract. I'm sending them over now. Check your email when you get home. Don't forget to have your sister look it over, 'kay? Try to get back with your answer ASAP. Before tomorrow noon, at the latest._"

"Will do. Thanks a lot, Sakicchi." Kise puts his phone back in his pocket after hanging up. He approaches his stop to find a familiar face standing there, phone in hand.

He readjusts the strap of his bag on his shoulder, calling out her name. "Nishino-senpai."

She does not look up and he finally notices the ear buds she is wearing. He walks forward, and just as he is about to tap her on the shoulder, she seems to notice his presence and looks up.

"Yo," he smiles amiably, raising a hand in greeting.

She raises a brow at him. The look seems far more familiar than he expects it to be. "Who're you?"

Kise's smile falters a bit. He blinks and points to himself. "Kise Ryouta. I'm on the basketball team."

"Ah, wait—" she pulls off one of her ear buds. "Sorry, what?"

Kise presses his lips together, but keeps the smile on his face nonetheless. "Kise Ryouta. I'm on the basketball team," he repeats.

"Oh, sure." She pauses a bit before slightly tilting her head. "Did you want something?"

"Well, um," he scratches the back of his head. "I didn't know senpai took this bus as well."

"I don't," she replies bluntly. "I need to drop by somewhere."

Somehow, Nishino Naruko is completely different from the expectations he built after their first meeting. She had been cordial when she talked to him as a reporter, but now he gets the feeling that she was only doing her job. Her honest lack of interest in him shows in her frank words and almost frightening ability to kill conversation instantly. She reminds him of a couple of models he knows—they have an absolutely stunning range of expressions when in front of a camera, but are painfully dull elsewhere.

Professionalism is a scary thing.

"I see. That explains why I've never really seen you here before."

"Is that so."

When an awkward silence passes through them, she puts the removed ear bud back into her ear and turns away from him.

The air between them quickly turns stale, and it is especially uncomfortable since they are the only ones in the bus stop. Kise fidgets a bit with the strap on his bag. He glances at her and finds her holding up her black phone to the sky, catching the vibrant oranges, yellows, and reds. Looking through her phone's screen, the colors shift and wave at every subtle change of angle. Finally, her hands freeze with a natural steadiness, and she taps the capture icon with her thumb.

The colors blend into each other so perfectly that he never would have thought that it is photograph.

"Uwaah, that's really nice."

She seems to acknowledge that he had said something, and she glances over him once again. As she removes one ear bud again, he tells her, "Nishino-senpai has a good eye for color."

"Sadly not," she sighs as she presses her thumb to the screen again, taking another picture of the sunset gradient. "I never would have chosen to go to Kaijou if I did."

Kise hides a snicker behind his hand. While the athletic clubs don the regal blue that Kaijou's sports teams are known for, their school uniforms are an admittedly sad shade of gray.

Something in that short exchange seems to have broken the ice between them, and she rewards him with a smile.

"Do you always take this bus?"

"Yep~" Kise replies with a light-hearted tinker to his voice. "What's the place senpai needs to go to?"

"Yaoya's been absent for a while." She holds up a paper bag containing stapled stacks. "The teachers asked me to drop this off at his place."

"Yaoya-senpai is Nishino-senpai's boyfriend, right?" Kise confirms. "I didn't know we took the same bus."

"Well, he doesn't have any clubs, so he probably takes an earlier one," Nishino replies. The end of her sentence is a bit drowned out by the hum of an engine. The bus they're waiting for comes to a stop in front of them.

"Where do you get off?" Kise asks as they board from the door at the back. Nishino takes a seat at a bench somewhere in the middle, and he takes the spot beside her.

"Itsuzaki."

Kise nods. "It's two stops after mine."

"Then, Kise-kun lives in . . . " she glances up, looking at the sign running along the length of the bus that identifies all the stops, "Toribayashi?"

"Yup. I live in an apartment with my older sister. She goes to a nearby university."

"What about your parents?"

"In Tokyo. I'm originally from Tokyo," he explains. "Ryouko-nee was already staying here when I graduated from middle school, and I wanted to go to a school with a strong basketball team."

"Oh? You weren't recruited?" she asks curiously.

Kise shrugs. "I got lots of offers, but I never really managed to go through them all. Ryouko-nee told me about Kaijou early on—the sports program was good, and if I stayed with her, the commute wouldn't be a hassle. My modeling agency also has a branch office nearby, so the decision was pretty easy to make." He sends her another smile. "What about senpai?"

"Me? Oh, I've always lived here—in Kikachou," she replied. "My parents' work is based in Yokohama."

"What do they do?" Kise asks.

"They both work for the Bank of Yokohama."

"Oh? Actually, that's kind of unexpected," Kise admits. "How did senpai get into photography?"

"It's not really a complicated story—Natsuki's hobby is cosplaying. She takes me along for her conventions, and my interest in photography grew from there."

It takes a few seconds for him to piece it all together. "Oh—your sister, right?" Yes, Nishino-imouto is always the first one to get the most recent issue of _JUMP_, which then passes hands around the classroom from there. If he recalls correctly, she is also the go-to person for anyone stuck in _Monster Hunter_.

Nishino nodded. "Our father is actually a fan of manga—I guess that's where Natsuki and I get it from."

"What series does senpai read?"

"I actually prefer sports series," she admits with a small smile. "Natsuki prefers battles and fantasy stuff, and recently, Dad's been getting into mecha."

"Nishino-otou-san sounds like a cool dad," Kise comments with an amused tone.

"He is," Nishino agrees proudly. Her bright smile is all he needs to confirm that she very dearly loves her father.

"All I've seen my old man read are newspapers and the stuff for his work." Kise shrugs. "He doesn't really read much—his hobby is watching variety shows."

"Hm," Nishino frowns and tilts her head. "I don't really watch much TV asides from anime. The only one who really uses it is Mama, and she always just has it on the news channel."

"Well, there are plenty of interesting variety shows out there. Senpai should try some," he encouraged. "Voice actors sometimes appear as guests."

"I watch clips online at times," she replies noncommittally. "But honestly, most of the time, I really don't get the point of what they're doing."

"The point is that there isn't one," Kise grins. "They just want to make everyone laugh and enjoy themselves."

"Is that so?" Nishino seems to have a troubled look on her face. "Well, Yaoya does say my sense of humor isn't normal . . . "

There is a click, and a computerized voice echoes through the sound system of the bus. "_Approaching Toribayashi. Toribayashi._"

"Oh. That's my stop." Kise reaches over to a button beside the window and presses it down. He stands up, pulling out his IC card from his pant pocket. "It was nice talking to you, senpai. Take care."

"You too, Kise-kun," Nishino replies. "See you around at school."

"Feel free to drop by practice again," he says with a grin. "I'll put on a good show so you can take more pictures."

And there is that smile that looks more like a smirk again, but something seems to have changed in the gleam of her eye.

"I'll be holding you to that offer then."

* * *

**Note 1:** No, I do not own _Nikon_, _JUMP_ or _Monster Hunter_. Nor do I own the Bank of Yokohama. I ALSO DO NOT OWN _KUROKO NO BASUKE_. SHUCKS, I nearly forgot the disclaimer again, orz.  
**Note 2:** My Japanese geography is whack. Do not take anything seriously.  
**Note 3:** I also do not know how the modeling industry works, aside from what could be gleaned from _America's Next Top Model_, but that's a different facet of the business altogether.  
**Note 4:** Kise's sister's name is not yet revealed in canon (as far as I know), but due to popular opinion in the fandom . . . In any case, I WILL BE SO DISAPPOINTED IF IT'S NOT 'RYOUKO'.


	3. Foreground

**A/N:** . . . how do you thesis oh my god. /uglycrying

* * *

"_Approaching Itsuzaki. Itsuzaki._"

Kise reaches over to press the warning button beside the window. He's never really gone beyond his own stop before, and he marvels at the streets flanked with gated properties at either side and at the wave of traditionally-dressed people who walk along the sidewalk. All in all, it looks like a very traditional area, and he feels like he has just stepped into a different time period entirely. The air is clean and fresh, and there is a sense of peace that permeates the atmosphere. Everything has the elegant flair of old Japan, from the red clay eaves of many of the buildings, to the huge carvings of the family seals on the gates of the larger homes.

The bus pulls to a stop and Kise exits, eyes roving around the street for the café Sakicchi had designated as their meeting spot. She said he would know it the moment he saw it, and one particular establishment does indeed stand out with its clear European influences. He quickly spots his brown-haired manager lounging under the canopy of the quaint little coffee shop, sipping on a latte with a half-finished slice of pie in front of her. Shoving his hands into the front pockets of his jacket, he approaches her, taking a moment to appreciate the presentation of artisan cakes behind the glass. He commits the shop's name to memory, filing it in the back of his head so he can message a certain sweets-loving former teammate about it later.

"Ah! Kise-kun!" she spots him easily, waving him over to her table. He drops onto the chair across her, giving her a quick greeting. "We still have some time; do you want anything before we go? My treat."

She passes him the menu and he quickly eyes it. "Hmm, then I think I'll give their house specialty a try."

His manager waves a hand, catching the attention of one of the waiters who had just finished delivering a nice-looking cake and a steaming cup of coffee to a little boy and his mother. She quickly rattles off his order, asking the young man to bring along the check as well.

"Thanks for accepting the job, Kise-kun! You really saved us there," Sakicchi sighs in relief, shoulders slumping as she took another sip of her latte. "It was a pretty big surprise when _the_ Tozainanboku contacted us. They usually use their own people for this kind of thing—the family that owns it an old and big clan, so they usually use their own members as the face of their brand."

Kise keeps it to himself that he has never even heard the name before this. He is a fashionista, yes, but this is a bit out of his league.

"But this neighborhood is pretty great," Kise quips. "Though, it kinda looks more like a residential area. The shoot venue is their main store, right?"

Sakicchi makes a sound of agreement. "Their main store is within their compound—the main family has lived there for quite a long time, and it was where they started their business. They even cater to the Imperial Family, you know!"

"Uwaah, I think I'm getting a bit intimated," Kise lets a small smile form on his lips. "What family is it?"

"It's one of the richest and most powerful families in the prefecture—one of the current head's sons is even part of the Diet! You've been living here a while already, so I'm sure you've already heard about them one way or the other," Sakicchi says. "It's the Yaoya family."

* * *

_Chapter Three_ | **Foreground**

* * *

Eight rings intertwined with each other to form a circle is the crest of the Yaoya family. The symbol is carefully sewn with silver thread against a rich indigo background. The banners bearing them flutter in the wind in front of the large, open gate, and the scene beyond the wooden doors is one he has only imagined from his Japanese Literature readings.

In front of them is a single building about twice as wide as the gate, and several long corridors connect it to smaller annexes littered around the compound. The front yard is a masterpiece of Zen Buddhism—a humongous, sparkling white boulder is set into the middle of a white sand lawn, which is painstakingly raked with the family crest. There are several groups of smaller black rocks littered around, probably portraying some kind of symbolism Kise isn't quite sure about. A wooden bridge hovers over it, connecting the outside world to the impressive compound.

Kise glances back at the footprint his shoes make on the polished surface and grimaces. He feels like an impure mortal setting foot into the territory of the gods.

He quickens his step, staying right behind his manager, who seems to be able to keep her composure in this kind of environment much better than he can. He takes to stepping where she did, being extra careful to put his weight on only a portion of his foot, since his feet are bigger than hers.

The moment they finally arrive at the porch, Kise immediately feels the full blast of the air-conditioning slapping him in the face with dry, temperate air. The attendants are dressed in kimonos the same shade of indigo as the banners that wave outside, the crest of the Yaoya family embroidered on either side of the chests. They welcome them with perfectly executed bows and a chorus of, "_Irasshaimase_." Sakicchi exchanges a few words with one of them, and they are led inside.

The huge gallery they enter is decorated with rolls of cloth samples and kimonos pressed in glass panes. The lavish patterns scream luxury, and his eyes immediately go to a stretch of white cloth decorated with elaborately woven red dragons. A faint memory from a summer festival long ago nips at the back of his head, but he suddenly feels a strong grip on his arm drag him along. Sakicchi's fingers clamp around his arm just above his elbow, steering him away from a middle-aged man in a suit being offered a selection of cloth samples by several attendants.

Kise's eyes widen upon seeing the man's profile, hurriedly whispering to his manager in a low voice, "Was that the previous Prime Minister!? That was definitely the previous Prime Minister!"

Sakicchi shoots him a warning look, tightening her grip on his arm as she takes hurried steps towards the attendant they had been following. The young woman opens one of the sliding doors at the back of the gallery and bids them to enter. They pass through a long corridor paneled with glass where more attendants are scurrying about, padding along the glossy wooden panels as they go about their businesses. A few turns later, they are finally brought to a large holding room where Kise finally feels like he can be at ease and belong.

Several make-up counters are set up against one wall, and a few models are being worked on by attendants dressed in the indigo uniform of Tozainanboku. The push carts nearby are lined with n assortment of fancy hair ornaments that probably cost _at the very least_ ten thousand yen each, and racks of clothing are set up next to each other at one end of the room, each identified with a piece of paper written with the name of the model who is to wear them.

A middle-aged woman in a dark pink kimono sprinkled with patterns of pale petals walks up to them with a clipboard in hand. Her hair is pulled back so tightly it gives her face a natural lift, and Kise counts at least four decorative chopsticks pushed through the bun at the back of her head. A jeweled comb rests at the base of the bun like a crown, and the tingling metal strips hanging from the ougi-bira ornaments hover over the left side of her forehead.

Beside him, Sakicchi unconsciously smooths down the front of her blouse and holds her head a little higher. Noticing her actions with an attentive eye, Kise straightens his back, throws back his shoulders, and puts on a bright smile.

The woman's eyes gloss over his manager's form and linger on his, quickly looking him over before tapping the end of her pen on the edge her clipboard.

"The replacement for that other one who dropped out?" she questions with a no-nonsense tone of voice.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," he greets politely, channeling Akashicchi since he thinks this kind of environment is totally his former captain's forte. "My name is Kise Ryouta."

Sakicchi takes one step forward, "Yaoya-san, we are terribly sorry for that inconvenience, but please rest assured that Kise-kun will live up to your expectations."

The woman gives a short pause before sharply tapping the end of her pen against her clipboard once again. "Very well. Just start him with the make-up, and I'll send my son over to advise the changes to be made."

She walks away without another word, and he and Sakicchi make their way towards an empty make-up counter. Kise shrugs off his jacket, passing it on to his manager before sitting down on the chair. She calls on one of the free make-up artists, who promptly makes her way over to them. The other woman takes a quick look at him and fingers through the containers in the large make-up case on the counter.

"Just lay down the foundation for now," Sakicchi instructs.

The woman nods curtly before picking out one of the flesh-toned bases and sets it aside. She hands him a hairband he dutifully puts on to keep his bangs out of the way while she works her magic and starts wiping down his face and neck with an astringent-soaked cotton ball.

A young man with dark red hair pulled into a short ponytail at the base of his neck wanders over to them with his arms folded into the sleeves of his dark kimono. Like the other attendants, the Yaoya family's crest is printed on either side of his chest, but unlike them, he also dons a striped pair of hakama. Sakicchi quickly gives him her attention.

"This is the new guy, right?" he asks with a casual tone, eyes going over him once as the make-up artist dips the Q-tip into the container of foundation. He leans against the counter and looks over at the racks of clothing on the other end of the room. "We'll mix up your wardrobe a bit with some other guys—I think you'll work well with the _Kareha_ collection. For make-up, put him on the November palette with emphasis on the eyes. Then just have someone iron his hair a bit and we'll leave the little details to Kohana and Niko when he's up."

Sakicchi follows him to the clothing racks to switch around outfits and the make-up artist pulls out a tray with mainly shades of orange, yellow, and brown, with some dark greens and deep reds for accents. The November palette is reminiscent of fallen leaves, and it definitely fits with the collection to be assigned to him. As the make-up artist mixes some colors on a clear container, he takes a look around the room. Two counters away, a girl is getting her face painted completely white, with her stark black hair being worked on by two hairstylists into an ornate traditional style. A couple of others are being outfitted by the attendants, whose hands swiftly weave the obis into intricate knots.

It seems everything is watched over and instructed by a young woman in a modern-looking ensemble of a loose, sleeveless white blouse and tightfitting dark wash jeans. Kise quickly raises an eyebrow in curiosity, as from what he has observed, everyone but the models and their handlers wore traditional clothing, marking them as part of the shop's staff. The woman in the dark pink kimono from earlier stands by the doorway, approving every model that came up to her before letting them through and marking it down on her clipboard.

"Alright, please close your eyes," the make-up artist instructs, and he immediately turns his head back to her, closing his eyes and angling his head up a bit. She softly grips his chin and he feels a feather-soft touch pressing on his eyelids. She does the same for his other eye before he feels the sharply cool glide of liquid eyeliner.

She finishes up his eyes and he takes a look at himself in the mirror. His entire face is a pale and smooth canvas, with his eyes popping out a bit more because of the dark eye shadow sprinkled with a light gold. The make-up artist calls on one of the hairstylists to work on him, and splashes on some flesh-toned lip matte and a brush of gold powder along his jawline and temple as a final touch. It is the usual clean-faced style of catalogs—since the main focus of attention is supposed to be the clothes and not the model. The hairstylist quickly irons his hair, finishing up just as Sakicchi comes to fetch him with a light yellow kimono in hand.

Kise quickly changes into the outfit, leaving the obi off for the moment as the workers from the shop are supposed to handle it. His robes are adorned with outlines of different-shaped leaves in dark golden threads, simpler than some of the designs he saw in the gallery earlier, but much more elegant. The accompanying obi is a dark blood orange, finely woven with a light gossamer shine to it. The fabric is lusciously soft against his skin, and Sakicchi openly marvels at it.

"Did you know they've always been patronized by prominent officials since the Kamakura Period?" Sakicchi gives him that little factoid.

Kise raises his eyebrows in wonder. "They've been around that long?"

"They're actually a much older clan, but they gained national prominence at around that time, when the center of government was moved here during the Kamakura Shogunate," she explains, and Kise will never admit that part—_the entirety_—of that explanation went completely over his head. "The clan head that time was appointed as the _shugo_—the military governor—of the area, and that's when they began to enter politics. You haven't been here long, so you're probably not aware, but they're a very influential family, especially around these parts."

"Is that so?" Kise mulls over what she told him, his thoughts running through what he remembers from Japanese History, though to be honest, there isn't really much. "I heard about a Yaoya in my school though."

"That's probably Yaoya Eikai-kun," Sakicchi tells him. "He's the guy from earlier—the one who advised us on your outfits and make-up."

"Is that so?" Kise drawls out lazily, before giving pause and blinking. "Huh? Wait, really?"

_That_ was the delinquent with a record who beat people up and is an idiot who embarrasses himself a lot? Kise's had the suspicion that he might run into him ever since Sakicchi mentioned the name Yaoya, but since he had also been told that they are a big clan, he hadn't expected to _actually_ meet him here.

Kise furrows his brows, glancing around the room and spotting the redhead now identified as his senpai conversing with the young woman in the white blouse from earlier. While his style and mannerisms do lack the polished and elegant aura of his mother and the attendants, his initial impression was in no way delinquent-like. He is clearly a very competent individual, with the air around him telling others that he is someone who knows what he is doing—not at all like what Kise has heard from the rumors going around in school.

But then his thoughts travel to a certain dark-haired photographer girlfriend and he mulls over it for a while longer.

. . . Is this that scary professionalism at work again?

With a shake of his head, he and Sakicchi approach one of the attendants to put his look together. A woman in the indigo uniform expertly ties together his outfit, and the young woman in the white blouse approaches them with a fan in hand. She lets it fall open, and Kise catches something that looks like an ukiyo-e print across it before she slaps it close against the palm of her hand.

She gives him a once-over and hands him the fan, which he takes wordlessly.

"This is good as is," she tells them with a nod. "That outfit goes to Room 3."

The attendant gives them a quick bow before slinking away, and they exit the room. The woman in the dark pink kimono—Yaoya-senpai's mother—gives them an approving nod before reminding them, "Room 3."

They step back out into the corridor and turn left. There are sheets of paper stuck to the wooden frames of the shouji screens on either side of the hallway, and they stop in front of the one bearing a big '3' in thick black marker.

This room isn't large at all compared to the holding room they were previously in. The set-up inside is very much like a regular studio's—there is a white background on one wall and lighting fixtures surround it, miles of wires snaking along the floor. There are two other models in line, waiting for their turn since a brown-haired model he recognizes as Nendai Akira is currently in front of the camera. They had met during one of their agency's trainings, and Kise knows that the older boy is currently attending a college in Tokyo.

The photographer paces back and forth, capturing different angles as Nendai appropriately adjusts his poses. Each photograph taken appears almost immediately on the monitor of the computer set-up on a table a few feet away. Sitting in front of the screen with a hand on the mouse and occasionally barking out instructions is a familiar face, her bangs swept off to one side by a pair of sunflower hairclips.

"Huh? Nishino-senpai?"

* * *

_**Review Replies Corner**_

**Otaku-neku:** Waaaah, and just after you said Chapter 2 was easy on the eyes, I give you paragraph-heavy this. :| It's longer than the first two, and it's mini-arc time, so I guess that's the reason this chap is setting-heavy. Even for me, Chap 3 is kind of hard to read with all the descriptions and adjectives and long sentences, but I felt it was necessary (uhhh, kinda . . . ?) for the movement of the story.

**crookenQueen (anon):** Thanks a lot! I'm glad you like Naruko—at least I know I'm doing something right, haha. And that conversation was probably the hardest part to write last chapter—I totally just stared at the screen for hours after every piece of dialogue because I was coming up blank with how it should proceed. If I was having that conversation in real time, it'd have taken a dozen round trips on that bus, haha. And I'm also glad Kise's IC! I'm actually trying to write dialogue with a bit of a 'translated from Japanese' feel, so I imagine Kimura Ryouhei whispering lovingly in my ear for everything Kise says, squeeeeee. LOL. :D

**shinigiris:** Thank you! I tend to sway towards somewhat loose-screwed characters and twist-driven plots, so I'm glad to know that I can actually pull off something that's believable and relatable. ^u^

Thanks so much to everyone else who reviewed, faved and alerted! Been dying over my research proposal for a while now, and that's why it took forever and a week to update this. But on the flipside, I think I've got a good hold on where I'm going with this. Uhh, not really promising more frequent updates, so, um, don't expect anything much yet . . . Sporadic updates for now, yeah.

(And I doodled senpai. Link's on my profile if anyone's interested. :D)


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